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Dirty Aristocrat(7)

By:Georgia Le Carre


'After twenty years. After all I did for him,' he spat. Shaking his head  in disgust he stalked out of the room. I was shocked. I couldn't  believe that Robert had not rewarded him. He was so loyal to Robert. I  frowned wondering why Robert had done that to him. To the best of my  knowledge Robert never once mentioned that he did not intend to properly  reward him. The door slammed.

I looked at my stepchildren. Their eyebrows were raised and they were exchanging surprised glances with each other.

The solicitor cleared his throat.

I started listening carefully. The next person was Rosalind. The  solicitor read out the stipulation that Robert's trust would pay her a  lump sum settlement of a quarter of million and twenty thousand pounds  monthly for life when she interrupted him furiously.

'Twenty thousand pounds per month? Is this a joke?'

The solicitor looked up, his face impassive. 'Mrs. Montgomery, please be  assured that everything you are hearing is the last will and testament  of your father. I have arranged for a copy of the will to be couriered  to you.'

She jerked her chin towards him. 'I'm not staying for this farce. I'll  contest this. It is perfectly obvious that he was not of sound mind.'  She turned towards me, her eyes burning with pure hatred. God! She  looked as mad as a mule chewing on bumble bees. She stood and began to  walk away, but then changed her mind and headed towards me. She stood  over me. 'Well, well, how clever you have been,' she shrieked.

I said nothing. My face was flaming with embarrassment. Everybody was looking at us.

'You think you've won? You think you've got it all?' she spat viciously.

'I haven't got it all,' I said softly.

'He left crumbs for us, his blood children, and the big prize for his trailer park child bride.'

She swung her hand suddenly and it was so quick I did not have time to  move my head, but the blow never came. I turned my head and Ivan had her  hand in his grip. His face was like stone. She twisted her head and  looked at him, her chest heaving with fury. 'Stay out of this. You're  not even part of this family.'         

     



 

'That's my ward,' he bit out. 'I've been entrusted with her well-being.'

'Let go of my arm,' she gritted.

He released her arm. 'Don't force me to take an injunction out on you.'

'She cheated him. He was ill,' she cried.

'He wasn't ill, Rosalind. You may have been able to make that argument  if you had not tried to have him declared incompetent six months ago,  but he passed the battery of tests your team of doctors had run with  flying colors.'

'He became more ill after that.'

'He wrote his will two years ago.'

She frowned and then gasped. 'As soon as he met her.' She looked down at  me and screeched, 'What did you do to him, you little conniving bitch?'

'That's enough, Rosalind. Your husband is waiting outside. You should go home.' Ivan's voice was so cold and hard I jumped.

'This is not the end of it,' she promised before she stalked off. Bianca  ran after her, but Dorian remained to hear that he too had been left  exactly the same as Rosalind. A lifelong income of twenty thousand  pounds and a quarter of a million pounds.

He turned to look at me and sardonically raised his empty glass as if in a toast. I looked away.

Then it was Ivan's turn, and I was utterly surprised to find that there  was no money for him at all. Not even a small token sum. All he had been  left was a painting that he admired as a child.

After Ivan it was my turn.

The solicitor confirmed what Robert had told me. I had been given everything else. The entire Maxwell fortune.





CHAPTER 6


Tawny Maxwell

The wake was a great success. It was exactly how Robert wanted it, with a  sumptuous spread of food, champagne, singers and even fire-eaters  performing on the snow covered grounds.

In all the gaiety, music and people, I suddenly realized that I couldn't  feel Robert anymore. This was his house and this was a wake for him,  but his spirit seemed to be nowhere.

Stifling a desire to tell everyone to go home, I slipped out of the  reception rooms filled with people and walked to his library. I paused  for a moment before I opened the tall doors and went in. Immediately I  was engulfed by the familiar smell of the room. Before he became truly  ill this room used to smell of the tobacco from his pipe. Now it just  smelt of old leather and that cream he used to use.

Inhaling deeply, I walked into the cold darkness. I felt as if the past  lived in that darkness and I could simply walk into it. I journeyed  deeper into the room and went up to his desk. I let my fingers trail on  the polished wood surface. I switched on the table lamp. It threw a pool  of yellow light on the polished wood and I thought of Robert sitting  here, his head bowed, reading.

'Oh, Robert,' I breathed.

'Hello, Mother,' a voice drawled from the doorway.

My spine stiffened. I turned around slowly.

Dorian was standing at the doorway holding a glass of red wine. His  handsome face was slightly flushed, his lips red, and his hair a little  mussed. In the half-light he looked as beautiful as one of those Greek  statues, but from the way he held the glass, with it slightly tipped to  one side, told me he was more than a little drunk.

'I'm not your mother,' I said coldly.

He took a sip of wine. 'Don't worry. I won't hold that against you,' he said slowly.

I hoped my face did not show the disgust I felt. It never failed to amaze me how little of Robert remained in his children.

'What do you want, Dorian?' My voice sounded harsh in the empty room.

He strolled towards me. Something about his unnaturally casual stance  made me shudder. He stopped in front of me and the desire to take a step  back was almost overpowering, but I held my ground.

I was in my home. He was the intruder. What could he do to me? One  scream and a whole host of people would come running. He was just trying  to scare me, but there was nothing to fear. I was only helpless when my  nail polish was wet, and even then I could still pull a trigger if I  had to and he was just a spoilt rich kid. I refused to give him the  satisfaction of knowing that he had succeeded in rattling me.

'Do you know I've always wanted to fuck you?' he said conversationally.

I stared at him steadily, my face wiped of all expression. Robert always  said that the art of war was to never show your hand. Always take your  enemy by surprise.

'Well, I've never wanted to fuck you,' I replied with elaborate politeness.

He took a long slow sip of his drink and regarded me quizzically over  the rim of his glass. 'Hmmm  …  how could he possibly have satisfied you?'  he wondered aloud.

I smiled coldly. 'I loved him.'         

     



 

Amusement flashed in his eyes. 'Come on, the sex was shit though, wasn't it?'

I smiled slowly. 'Not that it's any of your business, but I don't remember ever complaining.'

'If you think that kinky bastard's flaccid dick was good  … '

I laughed throatily. 'Poor, spoilt Dorian. So many women at his command,  but all the twisted fucker wants is to do his stepmother.'

His eyes glittered. 'Pull your claws back in, Mother. There's no need  for them anymore. You worked hard and fast. One moment you were  polishing his nails, the next you were polishing his knob. You've won.  Hands fucking down. You've got it all. No one can take it away from you  now.' A bitter smile shaped his mouth. He took a step closer. 'You don't  even have to pretend anymore. So come on, at least give yourself a  little victory fuck. You know you're gasping for it.'

'If you lay one finger on me-'

'So you cheat me out of my inheritance and you won't even put out. Even  the lowliest hooker will let you fuck her after she's taken your money.'

'It was not your money,' I said through gritted teeth.

'No?'

'No. It was your father's money and he could have left it to a cat's home if he so desired.'

'But he didn't,' he whispered. 'He left it all to you.'

'Lucky me.'

'So how about the victory fuck then?'

'No, thank you. Now how about you get out of this library and go enjoy the party. Your father would have wanted it.'

His reply was to let his glass drop. It shattered at our feet, the wine  splashing up to my calves. He used that moment when I was distracted and  surprised to grab me and swoop down on my startled mouth. His lips  crushed, his teeth hurt, and the fumes from the red wine choked me. He  ground his erect cock into my horrified body. I raised my hands and  tried to push him, but he was surprisingly strong.

'What the fuck do you think you're doing?' A voice like whiplash rang around the room.

Dorian released me unhurriedly and turned to look at his stepbrother insolently.

'Do you mind? I'm saying hello to my dear stepmother.'

My shocked gaze flew towards Ivan and found his blazing eyes fixed on  me. The gray was like molten silver. Oh my god. What a terrible mess! My  hand went up to my throbbing mouth. My knees felt like jelly, but most  of all I felt soiled by the accusing look in Ivan's eyes. He thought I  was a willing participant.

Feeling sick to my stomach, I stepped away from Dorian, but like a fool I  stumbled slightly and from the corner of my eyes I could see Ivan make  an involuntary movement as if to help me, but I placed my palms on the  desk and stopped myself from falling.